


Extra time

by metawohoo



Series: Slovenly lackadaisical cynic [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, badfic, emotional range of a teaspoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metawohoo/pseuds/metawohoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This goes after chapter 10 of "To the casual observer")<br/>Jim is invited to a night out with Harvey and some friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra time

**Author's Note:**

> I've separated this from the main fanfic because a) this is considerably longer than the usual snippets, b) Jim can't casually observe himself, c) this part was already covered by Sarah. 
> 
> Enjoy :D

When Harvey had started talking about an evening out with “some of the guys”, as a way to keep in touch after his transfer to Arkham, Jim had politely declined. The asylum was in no way a cheerful place, so he was all for grabbing a meal with Harvey. He had, too, one evening, at own of those godawful diners downtown, where the cheeseburgers were made of five layers of cheese, six layers of ketchup, and two slices of hardened meat-flavored grease (they still managed to be surprisingly delicious). But the guys? The guys hated his guts, and Jim wasn't interested in making himself likeable. He wanted, mostly, to be alone, which made no sense. When you got lonely to the point of not wanting to see people, he thought, maybe you belonged in Arkham.

That being said, Harvey was a persistent bastard, and he had called, and called again. When that had failed, he had gone to Barbara's flat, presumably to kidnap Jim (the neighbours had warned him about a drunk homeless man attempting to break in). As Bullock had presumably understood that Jim didn't live there anymore, he had settled for stalking him after work hours, and cornering him in front of the supermarket.

“Now you just come with me. Sparing some of your extra time won't kill you, will it?” he had told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

The man was jovial and happy and tipsy and about as likely to release Jim as to finish a day sober, so the younger man had let himself be nearly carried to Harvey's car. He couldn't have freed himself without things getting unpleasant, and the touch felt good, anyway. By the time he had landed on the passenger seat, he was between relaxed and just plain _happy_. God, was he desperate if an half-hug was all it took.

His good mood had limits, however.

“Karaoke night, Harv'? Really?” Jim commented as they parked behind a bar, under vivid pink neon lights.

“Do you ever stop moaning? Come on, I promise this'll be fun.”

He gave Jim a firm shove in the back, and left his hand here as they entered the bar. It was trashy, but a fair lot less than what Gordon had expected. Well, he wasn't sure what he had expected: a strip-club, or one of those gloomy, silent bistros filled with old alcoholics, where you could smell forty years worth of old beer and cigarette smoke.

Essen and Alvarez were sitting at a table with Edward (who looked very much paralysed), one of the women from the precinct he _thought_ was called Mary, and Collins. Also at the table were three of Harvey's “female informants”, including Marsha the duchess of Devonshire, and a young hispanic wom... Four of Harvey's female informants, one of them wearing a lose hoodie and little to no make up. So Sarah Essen, Captain of the GCPD, was having a drink with prostitutes, and didn't seem to mind.

Jim attempted to smile and leaned closer to Harvey.

“I'll kill you for this.”

“Of course you will.”

“And I'm not, ever singing.”

“Of course not. Now be _nice_. ”

Jim nodded and sat down, then did his best to grin to his fellow cops and to the three strangers sitting at the table.

“Glad to see you all”, he said. “It's been a while.”

“Hope it's going alright for you”, Alvarez replied, much to his surprise, as they'd been at odds more often than not.

“Yeah. Still exploring Arkham, really. How are things at the precinct?”

“Wohoho”, Harvey cut in. “Can you wait till after the introductions for the work talk?”

He seated himself next to Jim, and placed what looked like a Vodka Red Bull in front of him. That was when Jim knew that he would not get out of the place standing. How Bullock managed to make alcohol appear out of thin hair was always mystifying.

“So here's Sarah, and Carlos, and Collins - sorry there, still don't know your first name - and Mary, and Ed, and Natalia, Tanya, and the Princess of Albania, Marsha.”

Jim recognized that last girl: she'd been the one his partner had brought with him the night before they tried to arrest Falcone, the “Duchess of Devonshire”.

“Hey, you got a promotion!”

She giggled.

“Yes. Please excuse Harvey, he's not that good with the rules of peerage.”

“Pleased to meet you. You all”, he added.

They all nodded, but there was a gap after that, because while he could see the affinities between the people at the time - Essen and Alvarez, the girls, Bullock and Natalia - but he wasn't close with any of them, so he awkwardly engaged in conversation with Edward. He did like Ed. He was the weirdest guy he had ever met, and attempting to talk to him always drove you crazy in a matter of seconds, but he was good at the whole forensics thing and Jim figured he could stick to that topic and be safe. It went well - though there were _riddles_ \- until the girl who had been singing on the stage joined them. Vivian, she introduced herself, before she started to discuss sound waves with Nygma.

He started sipping his drink. It was his third, and they kept coming.

“You mean I didn't tell you about the duck thing?” Harvey exclaimed as he leaned over to grab peanuts, nearly crushing Jim in the process.

He had been talking to everyone in general and to Mary in particular, and she shook her head, dumbfounded.

“It doesn't ring a bell”, she said.

“Well it was what, three years ago? We get that call from the Kane estate, they had a break in, security guard shot dead, the works. So we go, and you wouldn't believe how fancy that place is. Think big, like Wayne manor. The paintings, the electronics, silver cutlery, a fence's wet dream. So the perp had gotten in through the third floor window, climbed to it, too, got to say he was dedicated. Of course as soon as he steps in, he triggers the alarm, spends five minutes running around chased by the guards, shoots one of them, flees.”

“Still waiting for the duck”, Alvarez pointed out.

“Just you wait. Seems simple enough to us, we've footage of the perp, all that's left to do is find him. He hasn't snatched anything, didn't have the time, or so we thought. One hour in and we get a call from the Kanes, want to report the theft of a duck.  _Happy now_ ?”

Jim chuckled, more at Harvey's tone than at his story.

“He stole a duck?”

“We weren't sure. The thing could have walked away for all we knew. But one was missing, real fancy bird, too. Mandarin. As colourful as a bowl of fruit loops. They also had peacocks.”

“Peafowls”, Ed corrected.

“Fowls, whatever. So we track down the guy, to the shittiest of squats in the Bowery, and when we find him... Bird shit everywhere, half a meth lab's worth of chemicals stored around, and of course the dude. He's just sitting on the floor with the damn duck in his arms, petting the thing like a crazy cat lady would. And he looks at me with, I swear, the most  _defeated_ face in the world, and he says 'It was just too _much work_ to leave empty handed, dude'.”

The whole table cracked up at that - God, were they drunk - and Jim felt a bit teary-eyed with laughter.

“Is anyone gonna sing with me?” Vivian asked after they all calmed down.

She pouted when they refused, in an array of “no way”, “I'm tone deaf”, “sorry, not really my cup of tea”. She climbed on the stage again, this time to the tune of “It must have been love”. Her friends groaned.

“I thought you'd taken care of that”, Harvey whined.

“I  _did_ , the DVD is in my bag, I snatched it when I arrived!” Natalia protested. “She's on to us, she brought a copy.”

“Are we missing some backstory here?” Sarah asked.

“It's  _her song_ ”, Harvey explained. “From that silly chick flick where the girl is called Vivian. It gets  _real_ old.”

“I think she's quite impressive”, Ed commented. “Her voice could use some training but she is nearly perfectly in tune.”

“Exactly what Fish said when I tried to get her a gig. 'Practice some more and you have a very good shot at this'.”

Natalia gaped.

“You did? Hell, she didn't tell us anything!”

“Well, you know Cutie Pie. Out of her brain after five minutes, I suppose.”

It was strange - and good - to see Harvey having  _friends_ . Not merely that restrained friendship he had with Sarah at work, but good, actual, close friends who liked him. Jim had never asked about it, never wondered, and he probably should have. With the man's habit of handing out blows like candy, he had assumed they were both loners.

Vivian finished her song and came back to them. Jim couldn't help to notice that no one  _else_ had attempted to sing that evening, even if the bar was far from empty, so the stage was always free. It was very bad, because she had clearly decided that the kid gloves were off. She bought a drink for everyone, and she didn't go for the light stuff either. 

“So, Harvey, I'ma start explaining all of your kinks if you don't come to sing the next one with me.”

Harvey shrugged.

“Gee, we'll be there all night.”

“I can start with the peg-”

Alvarez's horrified look got Jim to choke on his beer.

“ _I don't want to know_ ”, the other detective nearly shouted before turning to Bullock. “You. Move your ass and go with the cute girl.  _Right now_ .”

He stood up and Jim looked down, because his tight suddenly felt cold, because Harvey's hand wasn't resting on it anymore.

When. Had. That. Happened? He tried to rewind the evening in his mind, coming in, sitting, drinking, ducks, and couldn't figure out when the hand had landed there. It could have been five minutes before or fifty for all he knew. He had not noticed. When, when, when and  _why_ ? Harvey was into girls, overshared it, every hooker and every good woman, every detail of it. Loved 'em all, all varieties, hausfraus to movie stars. Jim blinked and blinked again, trying to focus, because it wasn't a train of thought you should get on totally wasted. 

The most likely explanation was probably the simplest, he thought. Harv' liked to touch people, and would even attempt to hug his  _captain_ , so he had probably not even noticed where his hand had landed, and left it there. 

He breathed in and turned to the stage.

“And I love to live so pleasantly”, Vivian and Harvey were singing. “Live this life of luxury, lazing on a sunny afternoon.”

They were  _really_ into it. Jim chuckled.

“You know you're going to be dragged there, right?” Sarah told him.

“I can resist a teenage girl.”

“Somehow I don't think it's the girl you should worry about now.”

She was right, of course. Now  _Harvey_ was into it, and all hope was lost for everyone. Essen didn't even put up a fight, didn't want the ranting, she said. She was the next one to sing, with the support of Mary, who didn't want her to suffer alone. They rocked “Don't stop believing”. Then it was Vivian and Tanya, for “Girls just want to have fun”, and Marsha and Collins basically ran out of the building at that point.

“Cowards”, Harvey commented.

“Hey, I don't wanna sing either”, Jim replied just to annoy him.

He was already resigned and knew he would probably follow Vivian on stage at some point (hopefully her voice would cover his, or he felt sorry for the audience). That being said, bantering with his partner was fun and he just loved teasing him.

“You're delusional if you think I'm lettin' you get outta this”, Bullock told him, pushing the list of songs under his nose.

“Don't turn your back then, I can outrun you.”

“Not in that state you don't.”

“So you're singing again?”

“Yeah, already asked for the song, too. You just wait and learn from the master.”

Jim snorted and drank some more. Bullock just lifted him up by the collar when his turn came, and dragged him on stage. Ohgodeveryonewaswatching. Ah, well.

The song turned out to be by the Kinks,  _again_ , and it was so perfect for Harvey that Jim had to laugh once he read the lyrics. “I took my baby home. She said don't you leave me alone, she kissed me on the cheek and I moaned...”. Yes, that was something he would pick. 

Jim mostly swayed - not on purpose - and attempted not to collapse with laughter. Halfway through, Harvey even prompted him to sing.

“It's not a fucking complicated song”, he pointed out, totally forgetting to keep the microphone away as he talked. “Wo-wo-wo-wo-won't?”

In his defence, Jim tried to sing for three complete syllables, then he totally lost it and let Harvey push him off the stage, where Sarah grabbed him so he wouldn't fall over, then guided him to his chair.

“So how much did you drink?” his captain asked when he finally stopped giggling.

“Dunno. Harv's heavy handed on the beers but Vivian, she keeps the vodka flowing.”

“I've seen that. Maybe you should not empty them so fast, you know? You wouldn't get instant refills.”

He grinned and shook his head and relaxed on his chair.

“It's fine. Not like I do this often, right?”

Hell, maybe he should, because the idea of going back for Arkham was nearly not unbearable.

“My point exactly.”

“Yeeees Mom. Oh fuck, did I just say that? Sorry captain.”

“Just stick to soda, will you?”

He nodded seriously, giggled once or twice, and turned to the scene. The rest of the evening was a bit blurry. Harvey came back to sit next to him, Alvarez sang (well, “recited” was more like it) “Livin' on a prayer”, Vivian got a duet out of Ed, and Harvey covered the Kink's entire discography. Then every scene came with gaps, and he felt himself yawning, and Harvey patted him on the shoulder.

“Come on, you drunkard, I'm getting you a taxi.”

“Already?”

He heard Essen and Alvarez chuckle, and frowned.

“You've been sleeping for ten solid minutes, dumbass. More than time to leave.”

“Oh. Alright. Uh, goodbye, everyone, nice to have seen you, this was fun!”

“Good night, Jim”, Sarah said.

The other girls waved, Alvarez nodded, Ed was gone. Jim followed Harvey outside, and let himself be deposited against the closest wall. Good call, too, since the ground was spinning.

“When I told you to have fun, I didn't mean 'swallow a distillery', asshat. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. A bit dizzy, that's all.”

“If you're gonna blow chunks, please aim  _not_ at my shoes.”

“Not gonna blow chunks”, Jim promised.

Harvey moved to face him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder, though that was supposed to be the wall's job.

“I didn't peg you as a lightweight.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah... The kid kept the screwdrivers coming, though I swear she had as many as I did and she's still standing.”

“Yes, well Viv' had a great many  _fruit juices_ , you moron. Oldest trick in the book, she was buttering you up. Can't believe you fell for it. By the way, you owe me a few dozen bucks, vodka ain't cheap.”

Jim groaned.

“I'm an idiot.”

“So I keep telling you”, Harvey said, leaning in.

Warmth spread through Jim.

“Nh. You're a close talker, did anyone ever tell you that? Makes one really suspicious about what you wanna do.”

The older man froze and moved back, then grinned.

“Don't worry. I know better than to stick my tongue into the mouth of someone I haven't paid before.”

Jim paused at that, because he could hear the thin layer of sincerity underneath the joke, because he could see how the man believed his self-worth was so low it might as well not exist. And sure, Harvey was a whole new brand of special, but he was worth so much more than that.

“You sad bastard”, he sighed.

Then wrapped an arm around Harvey's neck and pressed his lips to his.

It wasn't supposed to be sexual at all. A friendly brush of the lips, if that existed, probably the stupidest decision of his life. He just meant to get the idea across - “you should think better of yourself” - and a kiss had felt natural enough to his wasted brain. He hadn't expected how his body would react, the wave of desire that coursed through him and left him weak at the knees. It went straight to his cock, too, getting him half-hard faster than anything in a long, long while. He pressed his lips harder but didn't open them, too dizzy and stunned to process the sudden sensations  _and_ remember what he was supposed to do at the same time. 

Then it registered that kissing Harvey “women, I love 'em all” Bullock, ex-partner, still friend, best friend,  _only_ friend was insane, and he released him, falling back against the wall. Harvey gaped for the fucking  _longest_ second of Jim's life, and his stomach sunk, and maybe he  _was_ gonna blow chunks after all.

When Harvey started laughing, deep in his throat, Jim couldn't believe the  _relief_ . Some things he couldn't bear to lose, really. 

“That's what you call a kiss?” his friend teased.

And he crushed him against the wall, kissing him hard, one hand on his jaw and the other on his hip. Maybe he hadn't lied about those conquests of his, because he was good, and it felt amazing and hungry and Jim couldn't keep his arms from wrapping around him again, from pulling him closer if that was possible. He had to remind himself not to grind against Harvey like an horny kid - “don'tdontdon'tdon't _fuck_ ” - then to stop himself.

So he was bi. They.

Breathe out, breathe in, and the next kiss was slower but just as hungry. Harvey's hand moved from his hip to his chest, exploring above cloth, teasing a nipple, and Jim nearly creamed himself. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd done that. Must have been a teenager still, lusting after Stacy Foster, who wore miniskirts and kept dropping things she  _had_ to pick up. He wanted that warm hand around his cock, stroking him, so at least he wouldn't feel like a kid with his first crush, so he would have a good fucking reason to be dripping and panting. Then again, how did you go about asking that? Of course this was  _Harvey_ , whose jokes were dirtier than a porn catalog, and who shared tales of everything he had ever done in bed. The direct approach was probably the best, so Jim's hand moved from his shoulder to his back to his hip, and then started maneuvering its way to Harvey's belt buckle.

As  _his_ hand went down, the other man's went up, from his chest to his shoulder and neck, until they were both resting on his jaw. And with that, with one slow, lazy last kiss, Harvey pushed himself away. Understanding didn't dawn quickly enough, and Jim tugged at his belt. Then his partner took a step back, pushed his hands away, and  _that_ rejection was clear enough. It hit Jim like a blow to the gut, bad, bad,  _bad_ .

Harvey patted his shoulder, twice.

“Let's find you that taxi so you can go sleep the booze off, 'kay?”

Jim stared into empty space, breathing hard, chilled all over. God.

“Yes. Let's”, he muttered.

It was Harvey, yes, but it was  _just_ Harvey. It meant nothing and it changed nothing, they were fine. So he didn't fancy getting a handjob from him? So what? They were still friends. Being pushed away shouldn't have hurt as bad as finding Barbara's note. Still, it was slowly sinking in that someone  _had_ been carrying “half of his burdens” all along, and that it was not Barbara. 

He followed Harvey in sullen silence, for the quarter of an hour it took them to find a taxi, and his partner's casual friendliness grated him so bad that he felt ill. He still smiled as he climbed into the car, as Harv' patted his shoulder again, and even managed to refrain from shaking until the car was well on its way. Twenty minutes later, he was crawling to his cramped bedroom in Arkham, climbing into his creaking bed, letting his feet hang so he could feel the floor under them and the room would stop spinning and swaying. The sickness didn't feel nearly as bad as the shame.

 

###

###

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For your information, my best friend already informed me that I am a "horrible, horrible person".


End file.
